


In Cherry Blossom Time

by qthelights



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-01
Updated: 2001-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qthelights/pseuds/qthelights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My first fandom and the purple prose that went with such a thing.</p>
    </blockquote>





	In Cherry Blossom Time

**Author's Note:**

> My first fandom and the purple prose that went with such a thing.

He looked down at her pale skin, glowing in the smoky moonlight from the window. She looked the colour of eggshells and just as delicate, contrasted by the ebony of his sheets. When did he fall into this, he wondered.

The strangest thing was that he didn’t want to run, to back away. He wanted to be there with her. In fact, he idly mused as he watched her sleeping form, he didn’t want to leave this moment. What was to be gained from returning to the reality of the outside world?

The petals, their soft pink turned ivory by the night, stood out like diamonds on the bedclothes. He imagined that they sparkled up at him, treasure surrounding the woman beside him. With a soft sigh, she moved in her sleep, her arm reaching out for him and resting only when it connected with his thigh. Diamond blossoms twinkling at him.

Though the scent permeating the room was of cherries, he thought of apples. He couldn’t remember who had sung the song, or where he had ever heard it, but it drifted through his thoughts nevertheless. _I’ll be with you in apple blossom time…I’ll be with you to change your name to mine._ It seemed appropriate. After all, the kind of blossom wasn’t important. It was the fact that after all this time they were blossoming for him.

She had looked at him, her eyes showing her incredulity. ‘Petals?’ she had asked with an arched eyebrow. ‘They reminded me of you,’ he had answered, moving forward to empty his handfuls of pink into her own. She hadn’t laughed, though he had expected her to. Instead she had drawn the soft gift up to her face, inhaled the scent and smiled, ‘cherries?’ He had nodded, self consciously biting his lip.

Following her to his room, he had watched her spread the flowers over the bed, leaving a small pile on the bedside table. ‘For the smell,’ she told him, and removed her coat. He nodded again, forgetting that he could speak, smiled softly as she continued to make a matching pile, this time of clothes, beside the bed. ‘J…,’ she’d begun, then changed her mind, ‘Josh?’. And he’d moved toward her, hesitated before he touched, and then drawn a fingertip down her liquid shoulder. They joined the petals on the bed, sweetness from the flowers crushed beneath them filling the room.

He remembered thinking, as she had moved under him, that he loved her. And as she looked up at him with the sigh of his name on her lips and the blush of her cheeks in harmony with the petals in the dark of her hair, he had known that she loved him too.

Now, watching her, spread out on his sheets, the soft ridges of her spine curving down her back; her hair, as soft as whispers, splayed out on his mattress; listening to the soft cadence of her breath, he believed he was complete.

He slid down and pulled the dark sheets up around his waist. With one arm over her back, he pulled her gently to him.  The warm, gentle weight of her breasts settled against his chest. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck and was content.

The warm aroma of her mixed with the cherry-infused moonlit night and filled his mind.


End file.
